


She only sleeps when it's raining

by Builder



Series: Canon ships and all that jazz [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Vomiting, great parenting moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 16:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15295446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: It's Clint's turn to get up and soothe the crying baby.  But it's clear the only place he's running is to the bathroom.





	She only sleeps when it's raining

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @builder051

“I think that’s gonna do it,” Laura murmurs as she pulls back the covers and slips into bed.  “He fell asleep pretty quickly.”

“Hm.  Good,” Clint says sleepily.  He squints at the alarm clock.  “It’s only 2am.  Might be a new record.”

“I remember the days when I could say  _only 2am_ ,” Laura chuckles.  “I think I lost the ability when I graduated college.”  She yawns.  “Nowadays 9:30 is pretty late.”

“Tell me about it…”  Clint sighs.  “What we do for our kids.”  His head’s been aching since before dinner, and all hopes of a solid night’s sleep have been dashed.  Now he wonders why he even thought it was possible, what with a teething baby and two elementary-schoolers who have sorely missed their father.

“Almost makes you wish you were on a mission?”  Laura’s tone is teasing, but there’s an element of truth that makes Clint’s stomach sink.

“No.”  Clint wraps his arm around his wife’s waist.  “This family is my mission.”

“Good,” Laura says, snuggling into Clint’s big spoon.  “’Cause next time he cries, you’re up.”

Clint barely has time to smile before he drifts back to sleep.

***

The crackling of the baby monitor and Nathaniel’s shrill cry jerks Clint from his slumber and sends his heart thudding against his ribcage.  He’s disoriented for a second before everything clicks into place _.  Home.  Baby.  My turn._

He quickly sits up and swings his legs out of bed.  Vertigo hits, and Clint embeds his hands in the sheets to keep from falling over.

“You got him, honey?” Laura asks, her voice tired and slurred.

“Mm-hm.”  Clint stands and immediately regrets it.  Hot nausea seems to rise from his gut and descend from his head at the same time.  His stomach gurgles sickeningly, and he knows he only has seconds to make it to the bathroom.

Clint stumbles the few steps to the ensuite and slams his knees down in front of the toilet.  He grips the tank for dear life as he heaves hard. Warm beer and undigested dinner splash into the water.  “Fuck,” he mumbles.

“Clint?”  Laura’s light footsteps pad to the doorway.  “You ok?”

“Fine, babe.”  Clint fights a hiccup.  There’s still too much saliva in his mouth.  He lets it run freely before giving in to another retch.

“That’s some timing you got,” Laura murmurs.  Clint hears the door to the bedroom open and shut, then the pitch of Nathaniel’s crying changes as Laura presumably lifts him out of his crib.

“Fuck.”  Clint rests his forehead on the toilet seat.  He’s been home for all of 12 hours, and he’s already proven to be a disappointment of a husband, a failure of a father.  His stomach cramps again, and fresh sweat breaks out across his upper lip.  Clint props himself up on his elbows and waits for round two.

He’s mid-heave when the bedroom door opens again.  “Let’s see how Daddy’s doing,” Laura’s soft voice says.  She passes behind him and perches on the edge of the bathtub.

Clint spits into the toilet and turns his head to look at her.  Laura bounces Nathaniel on her knee and offers Clint a sympathetic expression. “You think dinner didn’t agree with you?”

Clint hiccups and shrugs.  “I kind of had a headache.”

“Migraine?”

“I don’t even know.”  Clint hurriedly turns back to the toilet as bile rises in his throat.

“Well, let me put this one back in his crib and I’ll find you some ibuprofen.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clint sputters.  “Take care of Nate.  I got this.”

“He’s already almost asleep,” Laura sing-songs, getting to her feet again.  “I think he just wanted to check on you.  Maybe say welcome home.”

“Right.”  Clint holds his fist to his mouth to stifle a hit-pitched hiccup.  “Thanks, buddy.”

Laura ruffles Clint’s hair.  “I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Ok.”  Clint takes a long, slow breath as he watches her cross the bedroom and retreat to the hall.  “What would I do without you?”


End file.
